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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29575914">would you like me with a bow?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincestgoddess/pseuds/wincestgoddess'>wincestgoddess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Sam Winchester, F/M, Feminization, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Sam Winchester, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Sam Winchester Angst, Sam Winchester in Panties, Sam Winchester-centric, Scent Kink, Sexual Fantasy, but brief religious imagery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:21:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29575914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincestgoddess/pseuds/wincestgoddess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean likes girls. Sam likes Dean. It all seems very hopeless until Sam finds an item that could maybe change Dean's perception of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>would you like me with a bow?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my very first attempt at writing porn please be gentle! also, to warm myself up to this, I started with some masturbation-only porn, though if you count Sam's fantasies as actual sex then there you go! Sam's sixteen here btw. I hope you enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I left money on the table in case you wanna order pizza.”</p><p>“Better than the frozen burritos Dad bought.”</p><p>“Hey, I kinda liked them. Weird aftertaste though.”</p><p>“You’re not selling them as well as you think you are.”</p><p>“Whatever. You sure you gonna be okay? I could stay.”</p><p>Part of Sam wanted to tell Dean he <em>should </em>stay. His brother wouldn’t need much convincing. A pair of pleading eyes, nervous chewing of his bottom lip, a guilty shrug and Dean would forget tonight’s plans, would stay with him instead. It was the same part that hid twitchy hands and kept distance between them when they sat on the couch. </p><p>Sam shut it down in favor of his rational side. Because he saw the way Dean’s eyes flickered toward the door, the impatient tapping of his foot and the glimmer in his eyes. Just a night out, a night of fun without having to take care of his pain in the ass little brother. </p><p>‘Another night where he goes off to fuck someone else,’ a nasty whisper echoed around Sam’s brain. He wished he could swat it away, kill the thoughts like the venomous insects they were. </p><p>“Dean, I’m not stupid. I know to salt doors and windows, lock after you leave--”</p><p>“And most importantly?”</p><p>“Shoot first, ask questions later.”</p><p>“That’s my boy.”</p><p>His boy. <em>Dean’s. </em>Every time Dean said those words, every time he gave Sam that proud little smile and threw an arm around his shoulders, well, Sam found himself torn whether to focus on the butterflies in his belly or the blood rushing south. </p><p>“I’ll be fine, Dean.”</p><p>“Right. I know that.”</p><p>“Just go already,” Sam rolled his eyes, trying to inject playfulness in his tone instead of the pure disdain that he knew was bound to drip from his words every second now. </p><p>He wondered if this one had huge tits, the way his brother seemed to like. Maybe they were small and perky instead. Dean went for those too every once in a while. A man that liked all flavors, he’d joked. Sam wondered whether she was blonde or brunette. Was she shorter than Dean, the perfect height to fit under his arm? </p><p>Would she be a screamer or try to hold back? Dean liked it when they were vocal. Sam, in one of Dean’s tales, had learned that little but important detail. To call his brother an oversharer would be an understatement. And since they didn’t have the luxury of friends, it fell on Sam to listen when Dean felt in the mood to talk about his latest fling. His one night stands, chicks he’d pick up at a bar.</p><p>He would watch his brother’s eyes get hazy with memories of heated nights, watched him lick his lips and shift subtly in his seat. Sam’s eyes had betrayed him once or twice, sneaking a peek. He was relieved that at least his fingers hadn’t betrayed him. Not yet. Not when they so badly wanted to skim over the bulge in his big brother’s pants. </p><p>“--be back later.”</p><p>“Huh? What?”</p><p>“You with me? Falling asleep on me already? Thought you were gonna work on your homework while I was gone, nerd.”</p><p>“Shut up. Isn’t what’s-her-name waiting for you?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, and her name’s Sophie, bitch.”</p><p>“Jerk.”</p><p>Chuckling, Dean ruffled Sam’s hair, slapped his back gently before turning around and walking toward the door. He reached for his leather jacket and slipped it on, instinctively reaching for the Impala’s keys in the pocket. </p><p>“Wear a condom,” Sam huffed.</p><p>“Not looking for a baby mama, kiddo” Winking, the older Winchester threw him a two finger salute before finally, finally shutting the door on Sam. </p><p>Just in time too. He didn’t get to see Sam’s expression fall, he didn’t see him looking at the door dejectedly before exhaling a sigh and going to the kitchen for the salt. Doors and windows. Right. </p><p>It didn’t take long before the familiar snake of bitterness coiled up his leg, up and around his neck and the telltale shadow of rejection crept into their shitty motel room. Constant companions ever since that fateful day Sam turned fifteen and suddenly, <em>suddenly </em>Dean wasn’t just his big brother, his protector. No, now Sam noticed other things. He noticed the flutter of his eyelashes when he slept, the whiskey velvety tone when he flirted, the sweat staining the back of his shirt when Dad made them wrestle.</p><p>He noticed the way his own body reacted to it, too. For almost a month after the big discovery, Sam would lock himself in the bathroom right after wrestling, the ghost of Dean’s hands still burning his skin and when he was under the shower spray and took himself in his hand, he imagined those hands had dared trail lower back then. </p><p>In front of John? Fuck it. Sam wouldn’t give a shit as long as Dean <em>touched </em>him, as long as he let the space between their lips close and let his body press against Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t give a damn about their surroundings, about John watching them, about any of the girls Dean’s fucked catching them if he just got to feel him. </p><p>Sam kind of wanted one of those girls to catch them. Smirk smugly at them and kiss his brother possessively, showing them Dean was <em>his</em>. </p><p>But he wasn’t. Dean wanted to fuck girls with huge tits that bounced when they were riding him. Girls that had long, pullable hair he could tug on when he had them on their hands and knees, fucking them from behind. He wanted a girl he could eat out because Dean loved eating them out, he didn’t even need them to ask, he <em>liked </em>it. Had even bragged he could go at it for hours. </p><p>For Dean, Sam would let his hair grow longer. Sadly, the universe didn’t grant him boobs but he could still be better than any of them, because none of them loved him like he did. None of them wanted him like Sam. He would hold himself open and let Dean eat him out for hours on end if that’s what it took. And Sam would never try to hold back; he would let Dean know the mess he could turn him into. </p><p>Sighing, the younger boy grabbed his backpack where he’d tossed it carelessly on a chair this afternoon, intending to work on his English essay and get his mind off of Dean. An almost impossible feat. That same twisted, dark part of him nearly wished Dean had brought her back here instead. Sam should’ve faked a project, one where he needed to go to a classmate’s house and then, once Dean thought he was gone, Sam would’ve pressed his ear against the door and <em>listened. </em></p><p>Only one time it had happened. Sam remembered the shock, the burning ire taking hold of his body, the <em>heartbreak. </em>He remembered the shameful lust when he’d heard a decidedly manly groan. Dean. He’d heard the bed squeak and the headboard thump against the wall. If he hadn’t been experiencing so many mixed emotions, Sam knew he would’ve shoved his hand down his pants right there, outside the door, would’ve gotten himself off to his brother fucking some girl.</p><p>“I could be better than them,” he muttered to himself. </p><p>Dean’s bed was right next to his and it was an absolute mess. Sheets were tangled, there was a burger wrapper tossed near the pillow and a huge pile of clothes. Jesus, what a slob. They already had to live in shitholes, would it kill him to keep things tidy?</p><p>Dropping his book on his own bed, he threw away the burger wrapping, tried to smooth out the sheets as much as he could but hesitated when it came to the clothes. It felt weirdly… intimate. It shouldn’t. Hell, Sam got stuck with most of Dean’s hand-me-downs and on occasion they even shared clothes. These clothes weren’t freshly washed though. They probably smelled like Dean’s aftershave and leather. </p><p>Heart beating faster, Sam reached out and grabbed a fistful of the first item he could reach. A plain, white V-neck shirt. Licking his lips, he brought it up and with the first whiff, he threw all caution to the wind, promptly burying his nose in it. It <em>did </em>smell like him. There was something else, too, something beneath the layers of cologne and it shouldn’t have surprised Sam that his dick, trapped in denim jeans, twitched when he realized it was Dean’s sweat, Dean’s musk.</p><p>God, it was getting worse. Sam was bound to snap one day. And he knew, okay? He wasn’t an idiot. Wanting Dean like that… it was wrong. More than that, that side of Sam that constantly begged him, pounded inside his head to touch him, kiss him, that part felt vile and twisted. Sam <em>felt </em>vile and twisted and impure. How could he not? When the man he wanted was his blood. </p><p>Choking down on a stifled sob, Sam shut his eyes tightly and tried, for what was probably the fourth time this week to stay afloat. He knew if he gave into his thoughts, he would drown in them. Dean’s platonic love was his savior, and it was also the nails piercing his hands and feet. Dean’s brotherly love was suffering and it was yearning. And Sam was kneeling at the cross, praying for one slip up, one glance that would indicate Dean felt the same. Sam wanted his brother to sin with him, and that made him vile. </p><p>‘But you still want him to fuck you, even if it means dragging him down with you’, there was no more denying that, not even to himself. Sam knew those words were true. Sam would burn no matter what, but if they burned together, well hellfire didn’t have to be so lonely after all. </p><p>With slightly shaky hands he was about to put the shirt away, walk away from Dean’s bed before his whispers consumed him, but he saw something that stopped him. Something pink. The color itself was suspicious enough, but the white little bow was even more perplexing. It only took shuffling some of the clothes to reveal the tiny item. </p><p>Panties. </p><p>Pink, cotton panties with a white bow in the middle. Well, these certainly couldn’t be Dean’s. Always having to be at war with himself apparently, Sam fought back the bile rising up his throat and chose instead to heed the pool of heat low in his belly. So, not only did he bring them by the motel sometimes but kept souvenirs? </p><p>For a second, he thought about burning the damn thing. It would be just a bad memory like the ghosts they salted and burned. Thankfully, his brain caught up to him before his emotions could act and made Sam realize something. There was a white stain. And then Sam’s quick brain almost shut down because that stain was Dean’s cum.</p><p>Dean’s dick had been there. Had probably teased the hell out of that girl, rubbed his leaking dick against her wet panties, while he kissed down her body and squeezed her breasts. Had he whispered how he was gonna push the cute little panties aside and just slide his dick in? Fuck her while she was still wearing them? Or had he taken them off? Had he spread her legs and buried his face between them? </p><p>By the time Sam came back online, he noticed two things: one, he had brought the panties closer up to take a better look and two, his dick was now fully hard and positively throbbing trapped in its confines. </p><p>Had it been the time Sam had walked in on one of Dean’s girls just getting dressed? Had she, in her rush, forgotten them here? Or had his brother kept them? Did he use them to jerk off when Sam was fast asleep? </p><p>Would he like it if Sam wore panties?</p><p>As soon as the question crossed his mind, the heat seemed to travel all the way up his body, taking over his entire face in a crimson blush that left him breathless. He’d never imagined himself wearing panties, but he <em>had </em>pictured himself being fucked by Dean instead of those skanks he picked up. With a little twist, his vivid imagination could perfectly add the panties, too.</p><p>Maybe… maybe if he looked more like a girl, Dean would want him. He could even wear a bra, the whole matching set. Makeup? Sure. Wigs? If Dean wanted him too, why not? Although, Sam guessed his longish hair could be enough in that department.</p><p>Not a lot of perfume cause it irritated Dean’s nose. Not so much jewelry either but a low cut blouse, perhaps? At least Sam was working with certified data. He knew exactly what Dean liked and hated in a girl.</p><p>Dean’s mess of a bed forgotten, Sam cleared his own, depositing his backpack and book aside. He took a look around, almost expecting to hear John or Dean jump out from somewhere and catch him in the act but he was well and truly alone right now. No one to see him as he slowly undid his jeans, pushed down his boxers, suppressing a groan when his hard dick sprang free and looked at the panties doubtfully.</p><p>Now or never.</p><p>If he was feeling dirty before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now, wearing used and stained panties. Jesus, the girl’s juices were probably on this thing as well. But then again, so were Dean’s and fuck if that wasn’t enough of a motivator. </p><p>They were nice. A little softer against his skin, though his dick didn’t quite… well, fit. He still tried his best to tuck it inside, taking a deep breath when his fingers grazed against that white spot. This was the closest he’d probably ever be to Dean’s cock. </p><p>Before attempting anything else, Sam walked up to the bathroom mirror and stared. </p><p>
  <em>Oh</em>
</p><p>He… looked better than he thought he would. Luckily the pink shade wasn’t either too pale nor too bright. It was just the right contrast to Sam’s slightly tanned skin. Biting down on his lower lip, Sam had to admit to himself right there that he, he kind of liked the way he looked. Taking a deep breath and coming to terms with this new discovery, he went back out to his bed. </p><p>He got rid of his shirt as well. Lying down on his bed, he wriggled around for a few seconds, letting his bare skin get used to the scratchy bedsheets. Did Dean really have sex here? Must’ve brought some pretty trashy chicks back here for them to even consider getting fucked here. Maybe he was the trashy chick here because he would let Dean fuck him anywhere.</p><p>Staring up at the ceiling, legs spread apart and one hand trailing slowly down his chest, Sam let his mind go blank for the first time today. He shooed away the poisonous thoughts and the mocking whispers; the stress and the painful knowledge of what Dean was doing right now and instead he conjured up his very own fantasy where there were no girls. No risk of John coming home. Here, it was only Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. And here, in his very own little world, Dean wanted him too. </p><p>Here, his big brother draped his bigger body on top of Sam’s and leaned down, kissed him like he <em>owned </em>him, licked into his mouth and nipped on his flesh like he wanted to mark him, wanted everyone else to see. Sam let him. He always did. </p><p>Breath catching, fingers ghosted teasingly over the front of the panties and the young boy blew out a shaky exhale when he felt the wet spot. That wasn’t Dean’s or the girl’s. That was all Sam. With one heated kiss, Dean could bring Sam to his knees, could make him leak like a girl. Maybe Dean would like that. </p><p>Maybe he would chuckle huskily in his ear and teasingly whisper ‘you getting wet for me already, sweetheart?’ and he would match Sam’s current movements, let his fingers trail teasingly, not touching his bare cock yet but feeling him get wetter through the cotton. Dean <em>would </em>be the kind to tease, to wait until he heard the shy little moan fall from Sam’s lips and then, only then would he slip his hand inside.</p><p>“Dean…” Sam’s hips bucked up ever so slightly, fucking into his fist, letting the pre-cum slick his shaft and spreading it over the red, mushroom head. He’d shoved the panties down just a bit, just enough to get his dick out, enough that he could picture it was Dean’s hand right now. Bigger than his, with more calluses. Dean, who’d be an expert making him come apart. </p><p>Would he want Sam on his back when he fucked him? Sam wasn’t averse to the idea of seeing Dean’s face, seeing him fall apart when he spilled his release inside. But also… Sam also really liked the idea of getting fucked on his belly, that way Dean could thrust in deeper, could cover Sam’s entire body with his chest and if he pleased, tug him up and against his front, could take his cock in his hand and listen to Sam’s pretty little sobs as he slammed inside his baby brother.</p><p>‘You put on these panties just for me, Sammy? Dirty, cum-stained panties and you didn’t think twice. Anything to get big brother to fuck you like you want, huh?’</p><p><em>Yes. </em>He did. He would. Anything to have Dean slide down his body, leaving a trail of blazing kisses behind, maybe tug on Sam’s nipples with his teeth, adding that tiny spark of pain that mixed so well with the pleasure because Dean knew Sam would take it with a moan and a plea for more. Sam would take anything, and be anything big brother wanted to mold him into.</p><p>With his free hand, Sam circled one perky nipple experimentally, his other hand letting up a bit on the stroking and calming his pace but god did he want release. He wanted to make this last though. Pinching a rosy bud, his back instantly arched off the bed, mouth falling open in a moan. Oh god, god that was good. </p><p>Dean would make it even better. Sam didn’t have breasts but fantasy Dean had no problem with that, he still lavished attention on Sam’s tits because oh yeah, he liked calling them that. He liked calling Sam his pretty little girl, rub him through his panties just like he would a girl and when he was slick and wet, Dean liked fingering open his pussy, watch the juices drip down Sam’s trembling thighs and add his tongue to the mix, licking up tanned, long legs while he turned his baby <em>sister </em>into a mess. </p><p>And when he went down on him, it was an otherworldly experience. Dean <em>worshipped </em>going down on Sam like it was his holy grail and the things he could do with his tongue were enough to turn anyone, especially Sam into a rambling wreck. </p><p>Because Sam <em>knew </em>Dean hardly ever bragged about anything that wasn’t true. Awesome muscle car? He had it. Being a good fighter? He was. So, if his brother bragged about being the best at eating pussy, Sam was inclined to believe him. And he’d go down on Sam just as long, work just as hard. He would <em>love </em>burying his face between long legs and lick across the folds slowly, getting a taste, slowly warming him to it. </p><p>Dean would spend hours licking him open, would let his fingers trail up and tug on his tits every now and then, slap Sam’s hand away with a growl when he asked him in a breathy whisper to ‘stop, it’s too much’. Sam didn’t truly want him to stop, he was just gone on pleasure and Dean knew that, too. </p><p>And when Sam threw his legs over Dean’s shoulders, locking him in and begging him to keep going, please please, don’t stop, that’s when Dean would grab his ass and eat him out like a starving man, pulling him closer. That’s when Dean would suck on Sam’s clit and it would be over for Sam. </p><p>Cheeks flushed, chest heaving now as he kept jerking off, Sam felt dizzy with pleasure. Images flashed through his mind. Images of Dean, mouth full of Sam. Dean guiding little brother down onto his knees on the dirty carpeted floor. Dean toying with his nipples until they were too raw, too sensitive to take anymore. </p><p>Dean and his fingers buried deep inside of him. Dean sliding his throbbing cock inside Sam, bareback, and fucking him until he screamed.</p><p>Slender fingers pinched the frilly little bow, tugged on it once, pictured it was his clit and his fingers belonged to someone with green eyes and freckles. </p><p>‘Gonna cum for me, baby girl? Let me see you, Sammy.’</p><p>Gasping out a cry of Dean’s name, thankful now more than ever that he was alone, Sam’s hips bucked wildly as he finally reached his climax. Stars exploded behind his closed eyelids and the pool of heat in his belly warmed up his entire body as it locked up, as ropes of cum stained Sam’s belly and most importantly, stained the panties. The same panties that had Dean’s seed now held Sam’s. </p><p>Strangely beautiful, Sam thought stupidly, too high on oxytocin to censor his own thoughts and his own welling emotions. Mixed. Together. Only like this because he could never truly have Dean. <em>This </em>had been his only filthy way of having something resembling the real thing. </p><p>Coming down from the aftershocks, Sam stared up at the ceiling. Now there was no excitement or shameful desire though, now Sam was simply left feeling miserable and deeply unsatisfied, never mind the amazing orgasm he’d just had. </p><p>This wasn’t anything new though. Lately, Sam was unable to jerk off without feeling hollow afterward. That empty, big void in his chest just kept taking up more space each time he remembered who he loved and what he was. He was a grade A freak. And Sam didn’t know how long he’d be able to take it. </p><p>Slipping out of the dirty panties, Sam rubbed his own cum into them with an eerily blank stare. At least this way, he and Dean could be together. </p><p>He was keeping the panties. </p>
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